From the very beginning I loved everything about spelling tests. I loved sitting up straight in my desk that smelled slightly of Comet cleanser. loved the teacher pacing around the room leaving just enough time between calling out words for us to write them in print or cursive. Seeing the letters in such fine arrangements of correctness was as satisfying as a time-lapse film of a rose blooming.
The spelling test may be my earliest understanding of "form." This concept boggled my mind as a college art major, and yet I knew it when I saw it in second grade. The pieces, the letters danced themselves into a perfectly logical, complete, and correct oneness that made my little heart glow warm. Spelling, rhyming, indenting, punctuating to the aromas of mopped beige linoleum tile and dripping overshoes in the cloak room.
And so this problem presented. The horns of a matter learned or mislearned or hallucinated. B.A. Paris has a new book out, The Dilemma. How embarrassing it must be for the author and publisher that the title is incorrectly spelled on the jacket. Or NOT!
The horns of the dilem-NAH. It's Greek, surely. A root word we will need on the SAT, Shirley. Probably the minotaur leading Theseus in two dark tunnels of the labyrinth. Alas, according to my big old red beloved American Heritage dictionary there's no N in dilemma, and Ariadne is left rewinding her thread.
Say the word. Use the word in a sentence. Repeat the word. Pause.
I will never forget the first two words I missed on a spelling test. It was a devastating blow to my self concept. Not perfect after all. Squirrels. Kitchen.
© 2013-2020 Nancy L. Ruder
No comments:
Post a Comment